


Trapped in Watercolours

by daretogobeyondtheunknown



Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-01-30 05:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12647490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daretogobeyondtheunknown/pseuds/daretogobeyondtheunknown
Summary: Choices are free to make but their consequences are not. Trini just never thought it would be something as innocuous as pancakes that would out one of her best kept secrets.





	1. Chapter 1

Trini swears she will never drink again.

From waking up on the floor of Zack’s bathroom to the taste of bile that feels like no amount of mouthwash and toothpaste will ever erase, Trini is done.

And well, there is also the minute detail drunk Trini thought would just be great. Top notch really. Because who didn’t need a glaringly obvious tattoo staring back at them in the bathroom mirror that certainly was not there the night before? What drunk artist thought that Trini had been sober enough to consent to that?

If she somehow manages to survive the jack hammering in her head, Trini highly doubts she will survive her mother.

*

It takes time to adjust. The itch of her skin calms to a dull whisper after the second week and somewhere through it all, Trini grows fond of the drunken blunder.

Zack teases her, nudging her in the least subtle of ways and offering remarks that short of screaming ‘Trini got a tattoo’ any sane person would put together. So it’s great that most of her friends aren’t, or well, know Zack well enough to believe the lies Trini keeps spewing because Zack just won’t shut up.

It isn’t that Trini likes secrets because she doesn’t. Or well, she’s working on the whole “being more open” thing. Rather, Trini knows what it represents. The tattoo that is and it’s why Zack won’t stop bugging her because apparently even black out drunk Trini still pines.

Hardcore.

“T, can you help me with this?”

Because honestly, who drunkenly gets their crushes fucking patronus immortalized on their skin? It’s nerdy as all hell and Trini doesn’t even like horses or patronuses or the books all this nerdy madness stems from.

“Sure thing Kim.”

At least it’s all beautiful watercolours and Trini thinks the way the shades of pinks and yellows weave together is absolutely hypnotizing. And well, it is pretty much what she imagines Kim keeps blabbering on about when she thinks Trini isn’t listening.


	2. Chapter 2

How she keeps it hidden so long is beyond her.

“T, what- Is that-”

College life isn’t exactly quiet and while Trini may have stopped drinking it doesn’t mean stupid things suddenly stop happening. She is best friends with Zack Taylor after all and stupid is just par for the course. Sometimes Trini wonders how they ever became friends let alone continue to be friends.

It probably has everything to do with his mother who is practically a saint and cooks food Trini swears no human can make.

But other worldly food aside, Trini still can’t believe it has been years and it is something as innocuous as pancakes that outs one of her best kept secrets. They weren’t even the kind with fresh fruit.

Trini loves fresh fruit.

“Oh this?”

Trini laughs because if she doesn’t she just might cry and Trini does not cry. Not even when puppies die.

Okay, maybe when puppies die. And when her brothers have to go back home and Trini just wishes she had more time with them.

“It’s… It’s gorgeous T. When-?”

The fingers dancing across her skin - impossibly soft - are warm. Yet in their wake goosebumps erupt, sending shivers to the extremities of her body and Trini, not for the first time, thinks how unfair it is that something as mundane as touch can elicit this reaction.

Or well, not all touch.

“I dunno. A couple years, maybe.”

Three years, five months and twenty-three days.

Not that Trini is counting.

“Wh… why?”

It is a great thing that Trini hasn’t poured the batter - or even mixed the batter for that matter - because nothing seems to work and not burning down the kitchen seems like a great way to spend her only day off.

Well that and with Kim.

Or at least with Kim when she isn’t busy staring through Trini’s soul. Because Trini isn’t so sure she wants her to see how head over heels she just might be because that just isn’t safe. It is a risk and an unknown tightrope Trini does not want to walk _._

“It’s nothing. Really.”

Except Trini knows Kim knows because her eyes narrow and her nails scrape across Trini’s skin and it all just hurts. Not physically, per se, but rather somewhere deep in her chest where something, somehow, squeezes without compassion.

Kimberly  _knows_.

Air is a commodity Trini would give anything for and maybe the ability to rewind time because Trini loves Kim but Kim doesn’t love Trini and Trini really can’t do  _this_. She can’t do any of  _this_  without that crooked smile, fiery wit and closet nerd consuming every fiber of her being.

“Kim… It was stupid. I was drunk and it was a mistake. I’m so sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

Kim stops asking.

Trini is sure it has nothing to do with curiosity – not with how her gaze gravitates towards the watercolour ink, brow pressing in silent scrutiny. It probably has everything to do with the elephant it embodies or at least that’s what Trini assumes.

“No way dude, my Crazy Girl here has the best tat. Show ‘em T.”

At least now Zack can stop talking in cryptic ways. Instead, he can blatantly attempt to peel away her clothes while regaling stories of her tattoo like it’s some sort of fascinating tale. And maybe it is – a fascinating drunk tale of stupidity and one sided love.

Trini loathes it.

“Fuck off, Taylor.”

The chorus of ooh’s, awe’s and other alcohol fueled calls ring through the room, following Trini out into the open air. Honestly, she can’t remember why they’re even friends or why she continues to come to these events. College is done and Trini still doesn’t drink.

“Oh. Are you leaving now?”

Trini pauses.

Okay, so she sort of remembers. Why she comes that is. Because Billy is hard to say no to and Trini may or may not know that Kim will likely be at any event Billy hosts. Even the nerdy robotics club that Kim really had no interest in and Trini may have enjoyed a smidge too much.

“Hey Billy. Yeah, sorry, thanks for having me. Tell your mom thank you for the butterscotch pudding.”

It hurts the way he regards her, all cock eyed and too scrutinizing. Trini knows he doesn’t mean it, the way he stares just a little too much and asks a little too blatantly, but it doesn’t make any of it hurt any less. Honestly, Trini just wants to get through one of these nights without being reminded of just how much pancakes can royally fuck a good thing up.

Because it isn’t like she and Kim aren’t still friends – they are, barely. It’s just Trini doesn’t know how to feel and she’s pretty sure Kim doesn’t either and so the solution is distance. Well, it isn’t really a solution, but it’s happening and Trini wishes it wasn’t but change takes courage and Trini really isn’t courageous.

Billy thinks she is. Or at the very least can be.

“Kim is coming. Are you avoiding her?”

Trini tries not to wince.

“No?”

Billy hardly looks convinced and Trini can’t stand to meet his gaze. He knows. Zack knows. Hell, even Kim knows. Trini isn’t sure why she just keeps lying anymore; clearly it isn’t fooling anyone.

“Okay.”

A pressure builds behind her eyes and Trini blinks back tears. Nothing about any of this is okay and all Trini wants is to take back the offer of pancakes, to take back that last drink, to take back the drunken immortalization of a love that will never be echoed.

“You should go. Kim is here.”

Kim stops asking because at some point Trini stops telling. Because at some point Trini starts lying and starts running. And so maybe the distance was really just her doing and Trini really has no intention of stopping. Because if she stops, Trini isn’t sure she can survive Kim catching up.


	4. Chapter 4

“I swear if you get up and find some stupid excuse to try and leave, I will tackle you.”

Trini is half way out of the chair she has laid pseudo claim to when she pauses. It burns in her muscles, the stance clearly unnatural and not meant to be held for any extended period of time, but Trini is afraid and that fear is far more paralyzing.

“Oh, so you  _can_  hear me.”

It is dripping in sarcasm and Trini knows Kim doesn’t want her response. Or maybe she does and Trini just can’t tell anymore.

“No one is coming to rescue you so you might as well sit right back down and tell me why the hell you are avoiding me.”

It is easy to forget that Kim knows all her tells - from the pinch in her brow to the twitch in her foot - when Trini has been actively avoiding her for months. Avoiding Kim takes conscious effort and honestly it is exhausting. From picking up a second job - a perfect excuse from parties and days off with Kim - to hiding away in run down pubs and hole in the wall dinners, Trini spends so much energy just running it is any wonder she remembers anything.

“Trini, please, just talk to me.”

A ball lodges in her throat and Trini thinks that even if she wanted to - which she doesn’t - she can’t. But Kim can’t see that - won’t see that - and Trini wonders who will break first.

If Kim wasn’t on the verge of tears, Trini likes to think it would have been Kim because Trini has been running her entire life.

“I’m sorry.”

And honestly, Trini is. She is sorry for everything because if she is willing to be honest, just for a moment, it isn’t Kim’s fault that they’re here.

“No you’re not. If you were you’d stop running away and just talk me!”

The gravel in Kim’s tone cuts. It leaves behind wounds that Trini has been so cautious to avoid and reopens gaping lacerations that feel impossible to stitch shut.

“It’s because I saw it, isn’t it? I was never supposed to see it, was I?”

The ceiling seems nice, all symmetrical tiles and bland white consistency. It seems easy to nod to, to confess her sins to, because saying it out loud feels like the hardest thing Trini has ever had to do.

“I might have told you. One day.”

Kim snorts and Trini tries hard not to find it painfully adorable.

“When? When we were about to die?”

Trini shrugs. It sounds about right.

“When I stopped loving you.”

Which is why, Trini thinks, death seems fitting. Not that Kim or anyone for that matter needs to know. It isn’t like Trini doesn’t know it’s stupid - that it’s a love she will die with.

Like a love trapped in watercolours.

“Oh, Trini.”


	5. Chapter 5

Things go back to a state of quasi-normality.

Kim is honest, and Trini appreciates honesty – well, sort of. Because honesty doesn’t make the pain any less but at least, Trini supposes, it gives her some sort of footing. It lets her know where she stands, and it confirms the assumption that always seems to linger in the back of her mind.

Kim loves her but not like Trini loves her.

“You aren’t avoiding Kim anymore.”

True, Trini no longer ducks out just before Kim arrives. In fact, Trini commends herself, she even goes so far as to leave open the odd evening for outings she knows Kim will likely want to attend. But that doesn’t mean that Trini drops her second job and she certainly is never the first to reach out.

If Kim notices, she says nothing.

“Yeah.”

In fact, aside from Kim’s sofa confrontation, she really has nothing to say on the subject, and Trini isn’t sure whether to be grateful or to give into the nagging sensation of concern. Perhaps, if Kim was the quiet, all silent brooding and passive aggressive type, Trini would think little on it. But Kim isn’t – quiet, brooding or passive aggressive – and she lives life like it is some sort of  _Tomb Raider_ like adventure that Trini just can’t keep up with.

“But it isn’t like before.”

Before is a blanket term. It describes a life that Trini isn’t sure she appreciates beyond its familiarity and go to comforts. The blanket was predictable, like a go to warm cozy, and was something Trini was always able to control.

Trini likes control. Or, at least, the small pockets of control in a world that is so very out of her control.

And no, it isn’t that things are better now, but Trini is certainly on the road to potentially being better. More honest at the very least.  

“Yeah.”

Tinkering on an electrical circuit board, Billy nods sagely, like he understands and oddly enough, Trini thinks he does.

*

Everything is okay until it just isn’t – or well, she isn’t.

It feels difficult to explain, the way the sensation in her chest spreads, like a cancer on the verge of metastasis. Trini knows that a broken heart is nothing like cancer – not in the way it stole the glimmer in her Abuela’s eyes, sunk in her cheeks, or made her wither from the inside out – and yet it is. It consumes her like a disease, causing her to waste away, and all for what?

Ignoring the looks of concern, Trini withdraws from the living room. It wasn’t like she was contributing much to the conversation anyways, movies were never really her thing. And maybe, Trini just can’t breathe, and the fresh air is the respite she needs. Needs in a way her Abuela began needing a steady stream of air, no longer able to truly breathe on her own.

Maybe, soon, Trini will need the catheter and the support staff too.

Zack doesn’t say a word as he sits down a little too close with his arm a little too far back. She fits perfectly into his side and the steady beat of his heart is the soothing balm Trini never knew she might need. It feels like a lullaby, the kind her Abuela would sing when she woke with a start, the tendrils of the nightmare clinging to the inner lids of her eyes.

Part of Trini hates him.

Maybe, if she had half the energy, she might just slam her fists against his chest instead of leaning in; might demand to know why he never did anything when she got a little too drunk; might demand to know why he never did anything to stop her from signing those forms; might demand to know why he never did anything to stop the needle from piercing her skin.

But Trini knows none of it would be fair.

Because Zack never made the choice and Trini really can’t be upset for the alcohol he never drank, the forms he never signed, the consent he never gave. She made those choices and deep down, Trini knows she would never change them. Because it feels like the only piece of Kim she has left.

“You know, I’d make it all go away if I could, right?”

The way it falls from his lips, Trini thinks, maybe, this hurts him too.

*

“Your dad and I are just worried about you, are you remembering to eat? Are you sleeping right?”

Trini rolls her eyes.

She loves her mom, sort of. It gets hard, when Trini knows her mom would rather write off her feelings as a phase than just admit that yeah, her only daughter is sort of really gay. But, Trini knows, that isn’t what the church teaches, and her mom is still holding out for the end of this ‘phase’.

At least her brothers seem to understand.

“Yeah, mom, things are just… busy.”

Trini hates the word and it leaves the most rancid of tastes in her mouth. Busy is for the people who just can’t prioritize things in life and somehow think that everything is going to fit. No, Trini prioritizes, she just thinks it won’t really help her case to say that sleep just isn’t a priority.

Her colleagues already think she’s crazy enough, no need to add her mother into the mix. Not that Trini thinks her mom has never seen her as a little crazy. At least, she never left her homeless or starving, and Trini knows that must be some sort of consolation for the stringent curfews and overbearing mother ducking.

But crazy or not, Trini refuses to become anything less than better, anything less than  _something._  Of course, she never saw heartbroken anywhere in that one day something, but Trini suppose it is all par for the course.

“You know, you should really sleep more, Trinity. How are you ever going to get a good boy like this? No one will-“

Penning out the measurements in the margin of her page, Trini hums. She doesn’t agree but arguing has long lost its worth. She loves her mom, sort of, and while Trini knows her mother doesn’t understand she knows at least her mother cares enough to call, so that must count for something. Even if she knows nothing about the watercoloured ink or Trini’s broken heart.


End file.
